One night Raynold Cheyne and I had a desperate brawl in the Rue St. Honoré with the archers of the Provost des Marchands, led by the Chevalier de Guet, or commander of the night watch; but we knocked them over like nine-pins, and fought our way off. Moreover, in this devilish fortnight, I was involved in no less than two duels, having to fight one for myself and another for a friend. I had become acquainted with a pretty little actress of the Hotel d'Argent aux Marais, and we used to take occasional rambles together in the Garden of Plants, and have other meetings, which were duly arranged for us by little Foquelin, the _Molière_ of later times. These proceedings one of M. de Treville's musketeers resented so highly, that he asked me to give him a meeting, which I did one morning about five o'clock. Why abroad so early? the reader may ask; but the truth is, that to suit my own convenience I met him on my way home to the Louvre. We engaged, but after a few passes he burst into a fit of laughter, sheathed his sword, and proposed that we should toss up for my actress over a bottle of the wine of Artois, which we did accordingly, and, as fortune would have it, she fell to him. My next affair was more serious. Our comrade, the Viscount Dundrennan, when crossing at the ferry of the Nesle, was incommoded by a chevalier of St. Esprit, and a meeting was arranged; but the Viscount having to attend an assignation with a little citoyenne, in the Marais, asked me to take his place; and, wearing his rocquelaure and a lofty plume, by which he was as well known in Paris as the statue of Henry IV., I met the chevalier of St. Esprit outside the gate of St. Marcel, and at the fourth pass disarmed and laid him flat on his back by a blow with my shell on the mouth. As he was a friend of Mademoiselle de l'Orme, I feared that for this exploit I might have to cool my heels in Holland, and take service under those very pious and proper persons, the States General; but the Countess stood my friend with the Procureur du Roi, the Chevalier got a false set of teeth, the affair blew over, and Dundrennan was my friend for life. One night I was sentinel at a private gate of the Louvre, armed completely, in helmet, breast and back plates, with sword and carbine. My orders simply were, to admit none by that postern without receiving from them the parole, which, as already related, the King daily gave to the Marquis de Gordon. In the chapel of the ancient palace, Louis was holding a solemn chapter of the fifty knights of the Holy Ghost (an order instituted by himself), for the purpose of receiving my friend, Cheyne of Dundargle, whose new honours were owing to the interest taken in his affairs by Madame d'Amboise.